


Funeral For A Friend

by Big_Damn_Hero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash is super dead, Bi!Dean, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Friends, Closeted Dean, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Homophobia, I don't want to spoil things, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mending friendships, Multi, Past Drug Addiction, Rated E for later chapters, Reunions, but i'm sorry, but its just the person you read about in the first part i promise, gay!cas, i mean the word funeral is in the title, i'll add more later, i'm so bad at tags, running from your problems, so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:39:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7640488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Damn_Hero/pseuds/Big_Damn_Hero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been 10 years since Dean Winchester has set foot in Hunter's Falls. Ever since his falling out with his best friend, Castiel Shurley, Dean has been giving the place a wide berth. But the death of a childhood friend beckons him, and Sam, back to their hometown, and all the people and problems they left behind. Will they be able to mend their broken relationships, or is this going to be the worst reunion ever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funeral For A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic. I'm sure it is less than great. No Beta right now, so all mistakes are mine. Story may be partially inspired by "Kill All Your Friends" by MCR, because why the hell not. I'll probably keep a running tab of relevant music in the bottom notes, in case anyone cares (no one cares, right?).
> 
> I had no idea what to tag, so tell me if there's something I missed.
> 
> Sorry for everything...

**2016**

_ **** _

 

_ “I don’t know how to say it, son. It’s about Ash. He… he’s gone…” _

Dean nearly dropped his cell phone reacting to Bobby’s words. His mind was immediately racing, looking for any other way to interpret what his surrogate father had just said. 

“Shit, you mean he… is he…?” He trailed off, unable to make himself actually finish the question. Luckily, Bobby understood his meaning and continued.

_ “Wrapped his truck around a tree last night. They say… they told us it was instant. He didn’t suffer or nothin’. Ellen wanted to be the one to call you, but… She’s having some trouble… Anyway, I said I’d do it.” _

The small part of him dumb enough to hope that Bobby had misspoke, and wasn’t about to tell him that his childhood friend had died, slowly deflated. So Ash was dead. The very idea left a bitter taste in his mouth; it didn’t seem real. Despite losing both parents well before their time, the idea of someone so young passing so suddenly still took him by surprise. Ash was Dean’s own age, a few months younger even, and so full of life. Now he was dead, and Dean hadn’t even seen him in at least two years, maybe longer. The last communication he could remember was Ash sending him some funny YouTube video a few weeks ago. He didn’t think he had even bothered responding. 

He realized he had been sitting in silence, absorbed in his guilt, and Bobby was waiting for some kind of response. He took a deep breath to get himself together.

“Hey, man, I get it. You can tell her I understand. Anyway, thanks for letting me know. Sam’s not home yet but I’ll tell him when he gets in, save you at least one call”. Dean was relieved he managed to get it out without his voice shaking too much.

They ended the call shortly after, Bobby promising to send along all the information on the services as soon as he had it, and Dean promising to get himself and Sam packed and on the road to Hunter’s Falls as soon as possible. 

He paced around the apartment he shared with his younger brother, waiting to feel something other than shock, and the numbness that accompanies it. Finally he shook his head, and decided to do something practical with this time, before reality would set in and he would feel the full weight of grief he knew was coming. 

The task of telling Sam that another member of their family – and blood or not, Ash had been family – had passed was not one the Dean was looking forward to, but it was also one he knew could not be done on an empty stomach. He pulled ingredients and pans from the cabinets and got to work on the most comforting food he knew how to make: Chicken Pot Pie. This particular recipe was actually Karen Singer’s, although Dean had never actually met the woman. Bobby’s wife had passed many years ago, long before the Winchesters had come to live with him on the heels of Mary’s death. That first night they were there, Bobby made them his wife’s pot pie, in an attempt to drown their sorrow in gravy. He made it again 12 years later, when John Winchester’s death made proper orphans of Sam and Dean. As delicious as it was, Sam had taken to calling it “Death Pie”, after Bobby’s tendency to only bring it out in times of strife. This was a tendency he had inadvertently passed on to Dean, who had asked him for the recipe a few years back.

After the pie was in the oven, he searched for a new task to keep moving. Entering his bedroom, Dean pulled a large black duffle bag from the top shelf of his closet and began to fill it with clothes, starting with his only suit. The act of packing kept his mind busy, preventing him from getting swept up in a flood of childhood memories that lay waiting beneath his fragile outward calm. He had just finished stuffing a case with his toiletries into the last bit of free space left in the duffel, when the sound of the front door heralded Sam’s arrival. Steeling himself for the conversation ahead, Dean entered the kitchen, attempting to fix his face into a neutral smile. 

He must not have done a very good job, because as soon as the words “Hey Sammy” were out of his mouth, his gigantic, moose of a little brother eyed him with a confused frown.

“Dean, is something wrong?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of the gentlest way to break the news to Sam, when the oven timer went off with a loud beeping. Secretly grateful for a brief reprieve, Dean motioned for Sam to take a seat at the kitchen table while he grabbed dinner. He took his time, portioning everything out and gathering utensils, all the while preparing to tell his brother, for an almost unbelievable fourth time, that someone he had cared about was dead.

“Something smells good”, Sam complimented, as Dean approached the table, placing one plate in front of his brother, and taking the other to his own seat. Then Sam saw what was in front of him, an awful comprehension dawning on his face. “Who is it?” he asked softly. He had always been intuitive - all the more when it came to his brother - and while Dean was certain it would make him a good lawyer, he almost hated that intuition in this moment. He was about to protest, mostly out of habit, when Sam pressed, “You haven’t made Karen’s pie since you had to tell me about Ruby’s overdose, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost, so please just quit stalling and tell me who died. Is it Bobby, is he ok?”

“Bobby’s fine, I uh, got a call from him a little while ago…”, Dean relented. “He was calling to let us know that, uh… Christ, you would think I’d be used to this by now…”, he trailed off, wishing once again that he was better with words, more like the man sitting across from him. He took a deep breath and ripped off the band aid. “It’s Ash, man. Car accident last night”, Dean finished, voice breaking.

Hearing it from Bobby earlier, making the “death pie”, packing for the funeral, none of this had made the news real quite like telling Sam. Dean felt his eyes start to well as his brother gave a sigh and a nod. Not quite ready for the impending break down, he blinked back his tears, stood up, and walked over to the cabinet. He retrieved two glasses and a half empty bottle of whiskey, bringing them back to the table and pouring a few fingers for both himself and Sam, who took it, despite typically preferring beer. The two sipped, and ate their dinner, in silence for a moment, before Dean was ready to continue.

“Bobby says he’ll send the details when they get them figured, but I told him we’d get on the road first thing in the morning, if that works for you”.

Sam nodded again. He was in his final year of law school, and loth to miss a week’s worth of classes, but fortunately spring break started in two days. He started mentally drafting emails to his professors explaining his necessary absences as they quickly finished their meals, and their whiskey.

“I guess I should go pack”, he mused, to which Dean gave an affirmative hum. Sam glanced at the two empty glasses and muttered, “One for the road”, before refilling his from the bottle. He offered another to Dean, who uncharacteristically waved him off. Sam shrugged, a gesture of “suit yourself”, before rising from the table, glass in hand, to prepare for their journey. Before he reached the hall, he turned to look at his brother, now putting the bottle and remaining glass away, and sighed, “I can’t believe we’re going back”. Dean grunted his agreement, and with that, Sam took his leave. 

Later that night, after all of the necessary arrangements had been made (Sam packing, sending his emails, and calling his girlfriend Jess to let her know he’d be leaving town; Dean calling his employees at the garage to let them know who would be running things in his absence), Dean lay awake, unable to fall asleep over the whirring of his thoughts. Reminiscing about Ash, and their childhood together, meant remembering the rest of the people from his past, and Dean found himself filled with trepidation at the thought of them. He hadn’t seen most of his old gang in years, and while he spent some time considering each of them, and wondering about how they would react to his return (assuming they all attended), his mind always returned to dwell on one in particular. Dean had not seen or spoken to Castiel Shurley since the day he left Hunter’s Falls ten years ago. Now, faced with the prospect of an imminent reunion, he found himself wishing he hadn’t turned down that second drink.

  
*********************************  
  


Castiel had always been a stoic individual. It wasn’t that he didn’t have strong emotions - on the contrary, he often felt things on a far deeper level than many of his peers - but he was far more focused on observation than expression, preferring to witness the intricacies of the human condition behind a mask of indifference (the one exception being his brilliant, beautiful smile, brought out only in times of true, unadulterated joy). This was a trait he shared with his father; one that Gabriel had told him (in a rare moment of sincerity) made him a good writer. Therefore, it was no surprise that when Charlie informed him that their friend Ash was dead, his reaction was comparable to the one elicited by an unfavorable weather report – a small frown and a gentle nod. 

The two of them had been about 20 minutes into their monthly skype chat – a ritual Charlie had insisted on the previous year, when she felt that he was not meeting her standards of “keeping in touch” – when Castiel heard the familiar sounds of the Cantina Band heralding a call on Charlie’s cell phone. The vivacious redhead excused herself, warning him not to disconnect, and disappeared from the frame to answer. When she returned a few minutes later, it was with tears streaming down her agitated face, attempting to form words between sobs. With some soft coaxing, Castiel was able the calm his friend enough for her to relay the message. The call was from Bobby Singer, and he had bad news. Thoughts of the man whom he had once considered a second father had barely began to take form in Castiel’s mind, when Charlie managed to come out with the rest. Ash Harvelle, a once beloved childhood friend, had been in a fatal accident. With the information dispensed, Charlie broke into a fresh round of sobs, while Castiel maintained his trademark calm – at least outwardly. Internally, his mind was a riptide. He felt a sense of disbelief, naturally, but it was soon overtaken with a much stronger wave of guilt. He hadn’t seen Ash in years, hadn’t seen anyone from Hunter’s Falls (besides his family and Charlie) since he was 18. He fought off the onslaught of memories and returned to the arduous task of soothing his sobbing friend. 

After close to ten minutes, Charlie seemed to have finally cried herself out, breathing returning to normal. She filled Cas in on the remaining details of her conversation with Bobby, including her promise to the latter that she would inform the former about Ash’s passing. Castiel privately wondered if Bobby would have actually called him had Charlie not intercepted him. They may have been close once, but that was before Castiel’s dramatic falling out with Bobby’s surrogate sons, before he severed all ties with his closest friends. He was fairly sure Bobby didn’t have his number anyway, as he had changed it when he moved to New York after graduation. Charlie was rambling sadly, when Cas felt his cell buzz, alerting him to an incoming text. It was from his big brother, Gabriel, and simply asked “You hear yet?”. He typed out an affirmative response and promised to call later, resuming his conversation with Charlie. She asked him if he was going to get on a flight tomorrow or wait until the date was confirmed, and he fixed her with his trademark head tilt of confusion. 

“For the funeral. You gonna wait and hear when it is or just fly back right away?” she clarified.

Castiel felt his stomach sink. Of course, there would be a funeral, it would be in Hunter’s Falls, and Charlie clearly expected him to go.  She seemed so sure he was already planning on attending, despite knowing full well that he hadn’t been back home or seen any of their old friends (including Ash) in ten years. Sure, he had loved Ash like family – he had loved them all – but that was a long time ago. He lead a very different life now, and he wasn’t sure he would be welcome in his old one. He was even less sure he wanted to risk finding out.

His hesitation must have been obvious to his friend, because she narrowed her eyes at him from the computer screen.

“Castiel James Shurley. I must still be light-headed from crying, because there is no way you are even considering not coming IN PERSON to pay your respects to our friend…”

Cas blushed lightly, averting his eyes. Most people found him hard to read, but Charlie had been practicing for fifteen years. Truly, only two people had ever understood him better, and one of them was his brother. As for the other, Castiel was determined to never think of him again if he could help it (and as luck would have it, in this moment he couldn’t help it one bit). Dean Winchester was the reason he couldn’t go back, why he’d lost touch with almost everyone from his past. Charlie knew all of this. He was sure he could make her see reason. He looked back at the screen, opening his mouth to remind her, when she cut him off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are some excuse for why you can’t come…” she groused, not bothering to finish her threat.

“Charlie, you know why” Cas countered.

“Seriously? Please tell me this is not about ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named’”, Charlie spat, skirting Castiel’s rule about not mentioning Dean.

“That’s not the only reason…” Cas mumbled, but Charlie barreled on, now fuming.

“Because, not for nothing, but it has been ten gorram years, Cas. And in all that time, I’ve respected your wishes. I’ve never pushed you to forgive him, or to contact him, or even to talk about him. I mean, I haven’t even said his name in your presence. But this is too much. Ash is family. And if you miss his funeral because you’re too scared to see Dean Winchester – Yeah, I’m using the name now – well then you are not the man I thought you were”.

Charlie finished her rant and sat there, seething at him. After a deep breath, Castiel responded,

“Charlie… It’s not just about him. I’m not going to lie, that is a big part of it” he supplied, seeing her skeptical face. “But also… I haven’t seen any of them since I left. Would they even want me there? Would Ash have wanted me there?” Cas finished, close to a whisper.

Charlie’s face softened at her friend’s confession.  She assured him that he would not only be welcome in their hometown, but that his presence would be missed should he fail to attend. After a few more minutes of coaxing, Castiel agreed that it was the right thing to do. He would make arrangements as soon as he spoke with Gabriel. As they ended the call, he promised Charlie he would tell her his travel plans as soon as they were made. Charlie nodded and bid him goodbye with a “peace out, bitch”.

Before he could lose the little nerve Charlie had helped him work up, Castiel pulled out his phone and dialed his brother. Gabriel answered on the 2nd ring, and uncharacteristically greeted Cas with simply “Hey baby bro”, as opposed to his usual salutation, where he pretended that Castiel had called a sex line by mistake. Lamenting the fact that it took this level of emotional upheaval and loss to make his brother even remotely civilized, Cas sighed out, “Hello Gabe”, and began massaging the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“So, do you feel as shitty about this as I do?”, Gabe asked bluntly. “I mean, Christ, I haven’t talked to Ash since it was cool to wear puka shells, and now he’s dead”, in the background of the call, Castiel heard the tell-tale signs of a candy bar being unwrapped. At least Gabriel’s form of self-medication wasn’t completely self-destructive. 

“I know”, Castiel replied, feeling another wave of guilt crash over him. It was his fault that Gabriel hadn’t seen or spoken to their former friend in a decade. If he had just kept his feelings in check, maybe their little group wouldn’t have splintered the way it had. Before he could vocalize any of this, his brother cut him off with a raised voice, “Cassie, I can practically hear the gears of self-loathing turning in that head of yours, trying to figure out how this is your fault. Knock it off. A clean break was for the best, we knew they were going to pick Dean anyway”. If Gabriel heard the hitch in his little brother’s breath at the mention of that name, he kindly ignored it, although his voice softened when he continued, “So, what do you want to do, go back or skip it? I’m with you no matter what”. It appeared that, unlike Charlie, Gabriel was giving him a choice. Castiel seriously considered taking the out, and dealing with Charlie’s ire later, but quickly realized that she was right, and he would hate himself even more than he currently did if both he and his brother missed Ash’s funeral because of his cowardice. 

“No, let’s go. I want to say goodbye. Plus, I already promised Charlie I’d be there. It’ll be fine, it’s been ten years, surely we’ve all had enough time to calm down by now. Besides, no one wants a coffin-side brawl, not even the Winchesters”. 

Gabriel made a noncommittal grunt, and honestly, even hours later, Castiel couldn’t be sure who he was trying to convince, his brother or himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Relevant Music:  
> -"Kill All Your Friends" - My Chemical Romance  
> -"Ten Years Gone" - Led Zeppelin  
> -"Cantina Band" - John Williams


End file.
